


Resurrection

by AnonymousSong



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Resurrection, and not be zombies, in a world where people can come back from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousSong/pseuds/AnonymousSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Press 2 for resurrection."</p>
<p>Original Fiction</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurrection

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was a super quick write up I did based on the prompt, "Press 2 for resurrection."  
> There is a lot of swearing in this, just saying.  
> This is also pretty much my best friend and I if we were genderbended and lived in this world.  
> Enjoy!

“Press 1 for the Afterlife. Press 2 for Resurrection. Press 3 for Reincarnation. Press 4 for Haunting. Press 5 or please hold to speak to someone.”

I sigh and press 2.

The phone beeps at me. “You have chosen Resurrection. Are you sure? The process will cost $19.95. Press 1 for Yes. Press-”

I press 1.

“You have chosen to be resurrected. The money will be removed from your bank account, Owen William Turnsend. Thank you for using Limbo corporations and have a nice day!”

My heart starts up again and I clench my fingers, getting the blood to flow. After a few moments, I sit up, rubbing my head.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

Travis grins down at me and holds out a hand. I swat it away and climb to my feet, a bit shakily. I hate dying. It feels weird as the muscles start up again and having to wait for the blood to really start flowing is such a bitch.

“You always seem to say that whenever you come back.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s true. Stop fucking killing me.”

“But, dude, it’s fun. And you always have the best look on your face!”

Travis’ eyes widen and his mouth hangs open in an O, mocking what I probably looked like when the fucker stabbed me in the neck. I rub the spot where the knife got me to find that it’s perfectly healed.

“Yeah, but I can’t afford the $20 it costs me, especially with you killing me four or five times a week.”

“I’ve only done it twice this week.”

“It’s Monday.”

He keeps grinning, the fucker. I punch him in the shoulder, though not as hard as I wanted to. It’s going to take at least another twenty minutes to be back in top form.

“You owe me. This was my favorite shirt, asshole.”

“Dude, you’ve had that rag for about ten years now.”

“Three years, and there’s a reason it’s my favorite shirt. Or was, since it’s now covered in blood.”

Travis snickers but forks over a twenty. “It was worth it for your face. I’m taking a picture next time.”

“There better not be a fucking next time. I’m getting really tired of you doing that.”

“But, seriously, dude, it’s only $20. I’ll cut it back to once a week if you really want me to.”

“Why don’t you just go kill random people? Why you gotta pick on me?”

Travis shrugs. “I don’t know, man. You’re funny when you die. And other people get pissed when I kill them.”

“I’m not exactly building a monument in your honor right now, fuckhead.”

“Dude, you don’t get pissed like normal people. You don’t even call the cops on me.”

“Anymore.”

“Right, but seriously. I buy you a sandwich and you’re perfectly fine. I can’t do that with little Miss Stick-Up-My-Ass down the street. I swear, I accidentally kill her this one time-”

“Didn’t you shoot her in the face?”

“Accident, I swear.”

“You shouted, ‘Kill the witch!’ before you did it.”

“How about I kill you again?”

I finally grin at him and just like that, all is forgiven. Travis has been my friend for close to nine years now and I’m more than used to his crazy shit at this point.

I clap him on the shoulder and start walking down the street. “What was that about buying me a sandwich?”

“I already paid you back, dude.”

“Man, you know you don’t mention sandwiches around me without buying me one.”

“Shit, you’re an ass.”

“Says the guy who just jumped out of the bushes to stab his best friend in the neck.”

“I’m trying to work on your reflexes. Owen, I swear, you’ve got some of the worst reflexes I’ve ever seen. Kinda why it’s so much fun to kill you.”

“Hey, guess what? Shut the fuck up.”

Travis tosses back his head and laughs before running to catch up with me. “Serious, bro. I’m surprised you haven’t walked into a bus yet or something.”

“My reflexes are bad, not my common sense.” I throw him a look. “Unlike some people.”

“What are you talking about, my common sense is gold.”

“Right, ‘cause shooting a police officer was a show of good common sense.”

“It was at the time...”

“In front of the police station.”

“Hey, you know what...”

“On live television.”

“I can add more blood to that shirt.”

“Try it, fucker. Let’s see who can kill who first. Either way, you’re paying for it.”

He glares at me, probably debating if he can afford to kill me again. Probably not, since he just huffs and turns away. His pout lasts for about five seconds before Travis perks up again.

“Got a new game,” he announces.

“Good for you.”

“It’s a killing game.”

“Isn’t that what your life is?”

“Shut up. In the game, everything is twisted so where if someone dies, they actually stay dead.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Seriously. But you’re this rogue cop and you just go around killing people who have done wrong or shit. And since you’re a cop, the other cops don’t expect you, you know, so you have to make all the killings quietly and not be seen or leave any traces that you were there.”

“Sounds annoying.”

“A little, but you know how much I like a challenge.”

“You’d kill your own mother for one.”

“I have.”

“I know. Fucker.”

“What? I paid her back!”

“The fact that you spend most of your money paying people back for killing them is a bit scary.”

Travis shrugs. “Good use of my money, in my opinion.”

“You’re kind of crazy, in my opinion.”

“You can go shove a pipe up your ass, in my opinion.” He laughs at his own comeback before stopping to take his phone out. “Crap, Jenny wants me to come home.”

I mimic the sound of a whip cracking.

“Hey, you can shut your face, dude.”

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear you over the sound of you being whipped.”

“This knife in my pocket would look awesome in the middle of your forehead.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, Cool Whip.”

“I’m gonna kill you, seriously.”

I chuckle and turn away, waving a hand. “Go to your girlfriend, dude. I’ll catch you later.”

Travis grumbles to himself and shouts out a good-bye only once I’m a good two blocks away. Ass.


End file.
